


What’s an ‘Orgasm’?

by wilddragonflying



Series: Far Cry: New Dawn Rewrite [3]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Crack, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, like wayyyyy into it, roger’s def into being bean’s first, teaching kink? maybe?, this is just... it’s all smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 20:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: Bean is... not quite sure how he ended up here.





	What’s an ‘Orgasm’?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoMoMomma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/gifts).



> This was originally written as bullshit crackfic to fuck with Bri after she used the phrase ‘secret chute’ in response to an anon talking about Roger eating ass. 
> 
> This... got out of hand.
> 
> Damn it.

Bean is… not quite sure how he ended up here. 

Whenever he thought about ending up in a bed with someone, he’d always thought they’d be a bit… curvier. With different body parts.

He’s not complaining about Roger’s  _ really _ talented tongue, though. Far from it; he had no idea that tongues could be used that way!

He also had no idea that asking Roger to explain what an ‘orgasm’ was would get them here. He’s lost a few steps, from finally drumming up the courage to ask Roger on the landing pad while the Canadian was polishing his helicopter to ending up in Roger’s room, clothes… somewhere? Lying facedown on Roger’s bed, Roger behind him, mouth pressed against his butt and doing…  _ things _ to his hole.

Bean’s heartbeat is currently pounding in his ears, but he thinks he hears Roger mumbling something in that odd, lilting language he uses sometimes? He really needs to ask for some lessons in that, he thinks absently, and then - oh.

_ Oh! _

“ _ Oh! _ ” Bean gasps, the sound torn from him against his will, rasping against his throat. “Oh, that - What are you  _ doing _ ?” He knew sex was a thing, knew that people could do all sorts of things  _ during _ sex, but this? He had no idea that mouths could be used for anything other than kissing!

Roger chuckles then, a deep, throaty thing that makes Bean’s toes curl and his stomach flip - and when Bean glances over his shoulder, he  _ sees _ the smirk on Roger’s face, and that’s worse somehow, but also better, because that mouth was just pressed up against him and Bean wants it back there but he also wants Roger to kiss him again, that was fun and didn’t last  _ nearly _ long enough, but, oh, Roger’s mouth is moving, he’s speaking, Bean should probably pay attention - “-ed ‘eating you out,’” Roger says, it almost sounds like he  _ growls _ it actually, and should that be frightening? Maybe that should be frightening but that mostly just sounds really  _ really _ hot. “A lot of people say it is only preparation, but I say - it is fun as well,  _ non _ ? A good way to work you towards your very first orgasm with a partner.”

Bean’s breath catches in his throat then; oh, Roger’s going to give him a  _ practical _ demonstration? Somehow he’d missed that part - but he’s definitely not opposed to it! “Okay,” he says - squeaks, really, and he’d be embarrassed, but Roger’s face is approximately two inches from his butt, his tongue which just rolled those delicious-rumbly words off had been pressed against his secret chute that no one but his momma had ever seen before, much less touched, so he doesn’t think he can even  _ be _ embarrassed around Roger anymore and - and -

He’s lost his train of thought, because Roger’s gone back to mouthing along the curve of his butt, something sharp -  _ Teeth _ , his mind supplies helpfully, and Bean can’t help a shiver at the thought - grazing over the delicate, sensitive skin where his butt meets the back of his thigh before Roger’s mouth returns to his hole, and…

Then Roger brings his  _ hands _ in to play as well, and Bean gets a very thorough first lesson in what an ‘orgasm’ is.

It rips through him, leaves him nearly  _ crying _ with pleasure spiked with little pinpricks of pain that only make the pleasure burn brighter, and look, okay, Bean has touched himself, alright? He’s messed around with his cock, knows what to call it, knows what comes out of it besides pee sometimes if he’s in the right mood and he strokes it just right, but it has  _ never _ felt like that before, and he tells Roger as much as soon as he can find two brain cells to rub together again.

Roger laughs, but it’s not mean - Bean’s gotten pretty good at telling the mean laughs from the amused ones, but this isn’t really an amused laugh, either? It’s almost like the laugh that his daddy gave him, sometimes, when Bean managed to make it through a good joke without tripping too much over the punchline, but there’s still something  _ more _ to Roger’s laugh that wasn’t in his daddy’s. Still, it doesn’t take long for his curious nature to override his musing on the difference between Roger’s laugh and his daddy’s. “Does it feel like that for you, too?” Bean asks; he’s never known much about the concept of ‘shame,’ and apparently Roger doesn’t, either, because he just raises an eyebrow as Bean turns himself over onto his back.

Roger shifts until he’s resting on his haunches, Bean angling himself onto his elbows so he can get a good look at him; Roger’s shirt and jacket are gone - Bean thinks they’re somewhere in the corner with his own vest and shirt - but he’s still got his pants on. Bean notes, absently, that there’s a pretty decent-sized bulge in the front of them, but he doesn’t get a chance to look too long before Roger answers his question. “Like Sharky just threw a molotov in front of my eyes?” he asks, amused. “Or, perhaps like Mrs Rye just whalloped me for trying to steal a drink from around her?”

Bean’s seen the explosions Sharky likes to set off, been close enough to feel them rock through his body, and he’s winced sympathetically at the whacks Mrs Rye deals generously to troublemakers - including the Captains and her own kid, and even  _ Thomas Rush _ , after that ridiculous food fight they’d had one time - enough to know what Roger’s talking about. He nods; they’re close enough comparisons. “Yeah. Kinda like that.”

Roger grins. “Yes, it does feel like that.  _ Explosif, accablant… c’est l’un des meilleurs sentiments de la vie. _ ”

Bean frowns. “I don’t know what you said,” he admits.

Roger’s laugh that time is definitely amused. “I merely said that it is one of the best feelings in life,” he says - and then he leans forward, his grin turning into a smirk that makes Bean’s breath catch in his chest. “I have given you a demonstration as to what an orgasm is,  _ oui _ ?” he says, bracing himself on his hands and knees, leaning over Bean close enough to touch, holding himself just far enough away not to, breath ghosting over Bean’s lips. “Would you like to learn how to  _ give _ an orgasm to your partner as well tonight?”

That decision doesn’t take long at all to make. “ _ Yes! _ ”

Roger chuckles at his response, leaning in and closing the last bit of distance between them, one hand coming up to guide Bean into another kiss. Bean’s hands come up, bumping against Roger’s arms, his chest - but then they just kind of… hover. Roger pulls back, looking at him questioningly. “Are you alright?”

“I - I don’t know what to do with my hands,” Bean confesses. “I don’t - I don’t know what to  _ to do _ .”

“Ah, I forgot,” Roger hums, mouth trailing from Bean’s over his jaw and down his neck. “You are inexperienced.” He shifts again, and captures Bean’s wrists in his hands. “I suppose I must show you everything then.” He doesn’t say it like it’s a burden, like it’s something he doesn’t want to do, though - he says it like he can’t  _ wait. _ “Here,” he murmurs, moving Bean’s hands towards his shoulders. “Start high, work your way low.”

“Okay, I can work with that,” Bean says, frowning in concentration - then blinks, startled, when Roger presses a kiss between his brows. “What?”

“You,” Roger says, smiling, “are adorable. Are you going to be  _ mon étudiant parfait _ ?”

“I… still don’t know what you’re saying,” Bean says quietly. “What does that mean?”

“‘The perfect student,’” Roger translates, still smiling. His smile grows when Bean’s face goes hot. “I think you will,” he says, answering his own question. 

“Maybe,” Bean says. “I like learning.”

“So I’ve seen,” Roger hums, once more taking Bean’s mouth in a kiss that threatens to short-circuit his brain. “You can move your hands whenever you wish,” he murmurs against Bean’s lips, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. 

“Oh, right,” Bean says, a bit dumbly - he’s honestly having trouble multitasking, with Roger pressed up against his naked body like this. He’s never been so close to another guy before, especially never like this, and while he may have asked Roger a bunch of questions about his helicopter and chatted with him before, he’d never thought about doing  _ this _ with him, and he’s… a little overwhelmed. 

He licks his lips, lets his gaze drift over Roger’s shoulders - Roger’s currently occupying himself pressing kisses over Bean’s neck and shoulder, and Bean almost finds himself distracted before he forces himself to focus. 

He likes the contrast of their skin, he decides, watching the play of Roger’s muscles beneath skin as they tense beneath his fingers. He has no idea if Roger will want to do this again - has no idea if  _ he’ll _ want to do this again, if he’s being perfectly honest with himself - so he’s going to take his chance now to catalogue everything that he can, like when he goes out on a scouting trip. 

Bean runs his fingers lightly down Roger’s arms, tracing the curves of his muscles first - he’s a pilot, so they’re not very well-defined, but Bean would definitely call him ‘lean.’ It only takes a few moments, a few touches, for Bean to start feeling more confident, however, and his touches to grow firmer - then he drags his fingers over Roger’s shoulders and down his chest, Bean’s bitten-rough nails catching in the coarse hair there. 

Roger groans when the pads of Bean’s fingers drag over his nipple, and Bean repeats the motion, intrigued. “Does that feel good?” he asks, curious; it’s never felt that good when he’s touched his own chest, but maybe there’s something about someone else touching it?

“It does,” Roger confirms, voice low, rough, and Bean starts at the change in tone. When he glances up, Roger’s pupils are blown wide, and he’s looking at Bean the way Bean’s only ever really seen Rush look at Nik before. It makes him feel small, but also… warm? Bean’s not sure how to describe it, but it’s not a bad feeling, he decides. 

Whatever it is, gives him the courage to give Roger’s shoulder a gentle push. “Could you… roll over? Like, on your back? I want to get a better look.”

One eyebrow quirks at the request, but Roger doesn’t raise a complaint along with it. He rolls onto his side, hooking an arm around Bean’s waist - eliciting a startled squeak at the sudden movement - to pull him on top. Bean’s knees end up on either side of Roger’s ribs, and he can feel something  _ pressing _ against his butt, something that makes heat curl low in his gut at the thought of what it might be. What it means, if it’s what he thinks it is. 

From this angle, Bean gets a much better look at Roger’s front, at his chest and stomach, and he… He likes what he sees, he decides. Roger’s not covered in hard angles and planes, but he’s not completely soft, either. He’s got some give to him, a bit of a curve to what would otherwise be sharp angles in his body. It makes him… comfortable. Approachable, Bean thinks might be an appropriate word.

Roger’s expression is patient, even if his hands - resting on Bean’s bare thighs, fingers squeezing and sweeping - aren’t, and he watches Bean watching him.  _ That’s _ what makes Bean blush, oddly enough. Not that he’s naked and Roger isn’t (although he wants that to change, he thinks, but he’s not sure how to ask for that), not that Bean’s staring at him (since Roger told him he could), but that Roger’s watching him with that indefinable  _ something _ in his eyes. 

That something that Bean thinks he might be able to define - think he might have seen in others’ eyes, directed at… Well, he thinks he could put a name to it, but it means things he’s not sure he really wants to think about right now if he’s right.

Bean swallows, hard, reaching out to lay his hands on Roger’s chest, bracing himself briefly as he catches his balance. He drags the pads of his fingers over Roger’s chest, over his nipples, just to listen to Roger’s breathing hitch. “Interesting,” he murmurs, more to himself than anything. 

Roger chuckles breathlessly - then sucks in a sharp breath when Bean lets his touch move lower, over his stomach and ribs to curve over his hips. “Would you - let me see?” he asks, curious as his hooks his fingers over the waistband of Roger’s pants.

“I’ll let you do a  _ lot _ more than just look,” Roger purrs, a promise Bean’s looking forward to holding him to. “Sit up for a moment,  _ cherie _ ?”

Bean complies, and Roger shimmies out of his pants and underwear in a few quick motions beneath him. When Bean sits back down, his butt presses against Roger’s thighs, and his gaze is drawn immediately down to between his knees, to the newly-bared parts of Roger he’d only been able to feel beneath and against him before now. 

Roger’s cock isn’t long, doesn’t look like it’s very thick, either… It looks like an average cock, Bean thinks, but then again, he hasn’t seen any beside his own to really compare to. His hand reaches out before he can think about it, and his knuckles brush against the surprisingly soft skin of the shaft. Roger groans at the touch, and Bean glances up. 

Roger offers him a strained smile. “You said you had touched yourself,” he says, one hand reaching up to cover Bean’s, curving his fingers around his cock. “Have you ever touched someone else?”

“No,” Bean admits quietly, too distracted by the feel of Roger’s skin on both sides of his hand to say anything else for a moment. “I don’t - I don’t do anything fancy with mine, either.”

“You have much to learn, then,” Roger promises, his tone betraying his excitement to teach. “Follow my lead,  _ mon chou _ .”

 

Later -  _ much _ later - Bean lies curled up next to Roger, beneath the covers, his head on Roger’s shoulder and their fingers tangled together. The implications of their position are almost overwhelming, but Bean knows he has a problem with his brain running away with him sometimes, so before it can get too far, he makes himself blurt on one breath, “What does this mean?”

Roger stills, the thumb of his other hand ceasing the easy sweeps it had been making across his shoulder, and Bean immediately misses the movement. “What do  _ you _ mean?” Roger asks carefully.

Bean bites his lip, hesitating - but he wants, no… He  _ needs _ to know, because if this doesn’t mean what he thinks it means then he needs to get out of this stupidly comfortable bed and away from this potentially-stupid decision and this stupidly-charming man and find his clothes and just… get out. So he takes a deep breath and elaborates. “This,” he says, squeezing Roger’s hand with the one whose fingers are tangled with his. “What we just did. I know - I know some people do it just for fun. But I didn’t think they did  _ this _ afterwards, if it was just for fun.”

Roger hums thoughtfully, and while Bean would, at any other time, appreciate the serious thought he’s putting into his answer, the delay is making him anxious, making him squirm. Roger squeezes him once, a full-body embrace that does little to settle him before he starts talking again. “Many do not,” he starts with. “If sex is done only for fun, then many do not spend time together like this afterwards. I enjoy this as much as I do sex, and if  _ you _ wish this to be only fun, then I will respect that. But… I have noticed you before, around Prosperity. You did not seem interested in me, only in  _ La Grosse Patate _ , but when you asked me what an orgasm was, and then when you accepted my invitation…” Bean feels Roger shift beneath him, looks up, and feels his breath stall in his chest in an almost worrying way at the expression he finds there. “I find myself hoping you wish this to be more than simple fun.”

Bean licks his lips, feels a foreign thrill go through him at the way Roger’s eyes track the movement. “This was fun,” he admits, but hastens to finish speaking before Roger’s expression can shutter too much, “but I don’t want it to be  _ just _ fun. I want to listen to you talk about your helicopter, and show you my maps, and sit beside you at meals, and learn all those strange words you said before. I want… a lot, with you.”

The smile that overtakes Roger’s expression is slow like the sunrise, and just as beautiful - not that Bean’s ever going to say it out loud. “I think,” Roger murmurs, the hand on Bean’s shoulder drifting up to cup the back of his head, urge him into a kiss, “that that sounds  _ wonderful. _ ”


End file.
